Take care of you, take care of me
by SpitzeFeder
Summary: Conrad is calling in sick, but he is never doing things the easy way.
1. Chapter 1

**There is far not enough Fanfiction on The Resident yet, so I decided on a little mainly-whump-and-care-story to get things rolling. I hope other writers will follow? **

**I love the series, but unfortunately the second season is not available yet in Germany. So I give no gurantee that this fits into the canon, but you can also be sure there is no spoiler :-) **

**I love to read and write about whump and care and would deeply like to see some in the coming-up seasons. What would you like to see? **

**As always: English is not my first language so I hope for your sympathy and be happy about any recommendations and reviews, either on language and story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Thanks for reading, have fun! **

Chapter 1.

Conrad was never late for work. It just didn´t fit into his regular behavior. Nic had just ended her nightshift and was preparing to meet her lover (boyfriend? Fiance?) for a quick coffee in one of the cafeterias, before she headed home to catch some sleep before returning for another evening-shift in the late afternoon. But as she arrived at said cafeteria, Conrad was´nt there. It was still a few minutes till his estimated arrival, so she ordered two Cappuccino with bagels, with the intention to persue Conrad into a more nourishing breakfast than his usual piece of fruit coming with an Energy-Drink.

It had been a long night. Two almost deadly cardiac arrests in Nr. 208 and Mrs. Channings in Nr. 203 in constant pain. As a nurse Nic had to give a lot of comforting and had finally agreed to call the doctor in charge for an extra dose of painkillers. She was tired. All she wanted was a quick kiss from Conrad, some comforting for herself, and then heading for her car, a hot shower at home and a warm bed.

Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming weekend. For the first time in ages she and Conrad had free time together. And nothing more was planned than going to the movies, some drinks and a sunday they could spend together in bed. Like a real couple. A smile slipped onto her lips as Nic let her thoughts float, she breathed deep and let the tense muscles in her shoulders relax. It was strange that Conrad was´nt here yet. A look on her phone told her that he was to be here since 10 minutes, his shift started in 20. Just enough time for a little catch up, a welcome new routine they both developed, after finding out that there never was enough time to talk, especially when they where scheduled on opposing shifts and could not see each other except for small glances in the entrance hall or during duty in the same department.

Conrad would not miss this little date he himself had suggested and that he worshipped. After being too close to losing Nic too many times he finally tried to change, to open up and share more of his live with her, and although he sometimes would still return to his closed up self and behaving distanced she could feel that he was trying his best to show her his love, commit and make her feel save.

So a twitch of worry nicked at Nics heart as she one more time picked up her mobile, checking the watch and Whatsapp, and decided that it would be best to call her boyfriend.

But his phone rang six times, then the mailbox answered: „Hello, this is Conrad Hawkins. Leave a message." Nic frowned. Her lips twisted into a wry smile as she answered nearly as straightforward as his mailbox: "Conrad, good morning. I wait for you in the cafeteria on the 2nd floor, as arranged. Please let me know if you can make it, I'm finished and I want to go to bed." With a conspiratorial smile she lowered her voice andadded in a mocking tone "most of all with you". Then she hung up, emptying her cappuccino and reaching for Conrad's already-cool cup. She was just guiding the cup to her mouth when she saw Devon apparently also just started his shift and still looked sleepy and in thoughts, so he almost overlooked Nic sitting at the small table.

"Hey Devon!" he smiled as he looked up, placing his ToGo cup on her table, kissed her on both cheeks, and sat down.  
"Hello, Nic, you're still here?"  
"I ended my shift just a few minutes ago, and actually I had a date with Conrad for breakfast."  
"Oh, but Conrad did call in sick earlier. Did he not tell you?"  
"Sick? No, I didn´t know that."

Nic was perplexed. Why should Conrad get sick now? And why had he not called her?  
"Did you talk to him?" asked she.  
"No, he called the administration. Officially complied with the official route." Devon grinned mischievously. "And they informed me."

Nics face went dark.  
"I tried to call him. But only his mailbox answered."

"Hm, if he feels really bad, he may have silenced his phone and is sleeping off whatever is bothering him." Devon shrugged.

Nic got up.  
"I´d better go and see him." Devon got up too.  
"Yes, do that. Let me know if you two need anything." Nic smiled.  
"Thank you, Devon. See you later."

While Nic drove the good quarter of an hour by car to Conrads apartment, the strange feeling in her gut grew. Conrad was never ill. He sometimes hurt himself: A sprained ankle while jogging, a bruised wrist while mountain biking. But otherwise he had a good constitution despite his slim physique, he very seldom got a cold, never got sick. That he now reported sick out of the blue, without previously having any signs, got Nic worried. Did he have an accident?

With these gloomy thoughts, she parked in front of the house, jumped up the stairs to the third floor, knocked on the door, and at the same time put the key in the lock that Conrad had already copied a few months ago. She pushed open the door and called into the dark apartment:  
"Conrad, are you there?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

The blinds were drawn shut, no sound came from the apartment. On Conrads bed, blankets built a small mountain. An empty glass on the bedside table. Next to it a clinical thermometer.

"Conrad?"

Nic stepped to the bed and sat down on the edge carefully. Only when she put her hand on the sleeping figures shoulder did he stir. Two sleepy eyes looked up at her. His forehead wrinkled.

"Hey."  
"Hey," she greeted back as she stroked her cool hand through his tattered hair.  
"Devon said you are ill."  
With difficulty, Conrad turned to face her.

"Yes, I'm not feeling so well. Maybe I caught that bug little Jasper was coughing all over the place. Thought it would be good to stay at home for the day."  
His voice sounded scratchy and painful, his eyes looked glassy.

Her hand sought and found his forehead, he closed his eyes in relief and leaned into her touch.  
The nurses eyes narrowed, she could feel heat radiating from his forehead.  
"Did you take your temperature?"

Conrad nodded.  
"Something around 102."  
"When was that?" Nic went into full nurse mode.  
"This morning at six. Felt like I did´nt get any sleep that night."

Her eyes widened.  
"102 that early in the morning?"  
She reached for the thermometer.  
„Open up".

He obeyed, taking the device under his tounge and closing his eyes, leaning his aching head against the pillows.  
After a few seconds the device beeped, Nic took a look and shook her head.

"103," she announced disapprovingly. Conrad swallowed.  
"Did you take something for the fever? Ibu? Paracetamol?"  
"Had nothing tangible," he replied.

He found it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open.  
"Great," she snorted, giving vent to her anger. What kind of doctor did not even have the simplest fever medication at home?  
"I go shopping. Do not move from the spot."

She did not seem to have to say that twice, because when she looked back she just saw Conrad sliding back into a lying position and pulling the blankets almost over his head. He really did not seem to be doing well. Nic swallowed and reached for her bag to drive to the nearest pharmacy.

* * *

After a short trip to the pharmacy and supermarket for some fruit, soup ingredients and ginger ale she returned to Conrads apartment. The scene seemed to have changed little as she unlocked the door and, this time quieter than the first time, entered the apartment. Her eyes immediately went to the bed, but she was stopped in her tracks. The sheets had been thrown back, the bed was empty.

"Conrad?" She asked aloud. No Answer.  
"Conrad, where are you?" she asked again when she saw the beam of light from the bathroom.

Hesitantly, she went to it.  
"Conrad, is everything okay?"  
Carefully she pushed against the door, it was just ajar. The sight before her briefly froze her. Conrad was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall next to the toilet. His hair was sticking to his forehead, he was shivering.  
His eyes were closed.

"Conrad, what happened?"  
Two quick steps and Nic was down on her knees next to him, cupping his burning face with both hands.

"Conrad, look at me." Nic demanded as she gently patted his cheeks. With difficulty he raised his eyelids, only to let them sink again after a moment.

He looked terrible and was breathing heavily. Before he could answer, he swallowed.  
"I got sick, and wanted to get to the toilet. But I'm so finished up, I can not get up again."

"Did you vomit?" Nic asked as she reached for his wrist to check his pulse. Weak and thready. His skin radiated heat and the T-shirt he was wearing over his pajama pants was soaked in sweat.  
"Yes, but nothing comes out. Have not eaten since yesterday at noon."

Now in daylight she could see the dark circles under his eyes and unhealthily reddened cheeks standing out from his pale skin.  
"Come on, you can´t sit here on the cold floor. Let's get you back to bed",  
Nic said as she helped him up, put his arm around her shoulder to support him, leading him back to the main room. She felt that he must feel really terrible, spoken by how he was leaning on her, letting her take some of his wight.

"Do you think you need a doctor?" Nic asked as he sank heavily onto the bed.  
"I am a doctor," he croaked.  
Nic snorted.  
"Yes, and we just figured out, you didn´t even have some paracetamol at home. A fine doctor you are."

The long nightshift and his stubborn behaviour visibly consumed her nerves. But Conrad was too busy with himself to really listen to her. Immediately he wanted to curl up in an embryonic posture, but Nic sighed and stopped him. "First you drink something and take the medication. And you need a fresh T-shirt."

* * *

Needing that amount of help made Conrad feel absolutely uncomfortable, even in his foggy mind. He should take care of himself. But it felt also strangely soothing to have Nic taking charge. So for once he let her fuss over him, reaching him a fresh shirt and handing some pills with a soothingly glass of cold water. Once he swallowed and was allowed to lay back, resting his aching back against the backboard, he looked up to her.

She smiled a crooked smile and wanted to turn away, but he lifted his hand towards her.  
"Nic."  
He looked so vulnerable in this position, so she took hold of his hand and let him pull her onto a sitting position on the edge of his bed.

"Thank you." His eyelids where only halfmast and his voice sounded hoarse even in his own ears. In the dim light he could see how tired she was. His heart made a jump of guilt as realization dawned to him. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"You just came home from night-shift."  
Nic felt a twitch in her heart. Coming home? Which home? His or theirs?  
"You should rest." He continued.

She smiled and ruffled her free hand through his hair.  
"You are the one who needs rest."  
"But you too," he insisted. "Come here."

He patted his hand on the free space next to him.  
"I don´t think I´m contagious." He smiled his crooked smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! **

Chapter 3.

The orange afternoon light illuminated the main room as Conrad returned from a dreamless sleep. His head pounded in rhythm with his heart, his mouth felt like cotton wool was stuffed in it. He needed water. Carefully, he pushed his arm out from under Nics head, where she rested next to him, sleeping soundly. He reached for the bedside table to steady himself while sitting. The little movement had made his world spin. His overheated skin felt dry like the desert. The fever drug seemed to have made its way out of his system, and he certainly was not in time to replenish it.

A quick glance at Nics relaxed features made him decide he would not wake her up just to ask for some water. She had a few more hours to return to the hospital, and she needed all the rest she could get. So he pulled his leaden legs to the edge of the bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, waiting for the gray edges of his flat to return to normal color. A deep breath freed him from the nausea in his stomach. With another cautious look, just to keep her from awakening, he got up, swayed a little, and went to the kitchen counter. Just a sip of water, a few more pills, then he wanted to return to his warm bed and relax next to Nics sleeping body.

But as he reached the counter he felt the world spin again, inwardly feeling his bloodpressure drop. Breathing became more and more of an effort, he seemed not to get enough air into his lungs. His eyes watered.

"Sit" a voice in his head announced, he reached out for one oft he stools next to the counter. But he could´nt get a good grasp, his hands slipped over the leather. The stool tipped. Had he knocked the chair over or had it slipped away and knocked him to the ground? Like in slow motion, the clattering sound of the falling stool reached his ears belated, he felt his body tumbling towards the floorboards. The cold floor sent a strangely comforting feeling to his hot skin, except for the increasing pain in his shoulder and head. Then his world went black.

* * *

Nic woke up abruptly. What had startled her? It took her two seconds to realize that she was´nt in her own bed, in her own house, but in Conrads appartment. But where was Conrad? Then everything rushed back into her mind: driving here because of a sick Conrad, finding him in a messy state, collecting food and fever-meds, trying to stay awake next to his overheated body to keep an eye on him but finally letting her eyes slip close for just a minute. How much time had passed? A bright afternoon-sun made its way through the halfclosed shutters.

Her eyes wandered around the dimlit flat and caught sight of a mass on the floor next to the kitchen counter, that should not be there.  
"Oh god, Conrad." She breathed, and was out of the bed and kneeling next to his lifeless form in one swift motion. Her heart hammered as she laid one hand on his shoulder, one on his neck.

A thready pulse, heat radiating from his dry skin. She patted his cheek, inside she screamed, but outwardly she tried to hold her wits together: check vitals, try to revive, if not possible, call for help.

With one hand Nic reached for the phone in her pocket, but it was´ nt there. Sure, she had laid it on the nightstand to keep an eye on the time. She did´nt want to leave Conrad, but she needed her phone, so she gently bedded his head with a small blanket she pulled from a nearby chair, making sure his airways were´nt constricted, and got to her feet to find her phone. Four steps to the bed, four back, she was already dialing 911 as glassy brown eyes were frowning up at her, disoriented and only half awake.

"Conrad." She did´nt finish the call, falling to her knees next to him, helping him lift his head.  
"Conrad, can you hear me?"  
He shook his head slightly, trying to get rid of the foggyness that surrounded him. His hand went up to his nosebridge, brushing over his face and eyes, then wandering towards his aching shoulder.

"What happened?" he asked, swallowing hard to fight the upcoming nausea.  
Nic shook her head.  
"I think you passed out. I woke up from some noise and found you lying on the floor, out cold."

It took her a moment to catch her breath and calm herself again, so happy to see his soft brown eyes again. He grimaced and tried to sit up. Realizing his intention she helped him regain an upright position with his back leaning against the counter.

Once seated she lifted her hand palpating his carotis-pulsepoint with two fingers. Unusually, he allowed her to do so.  
"Your heart is racing."

He swallowed, and grimaced again as his throat felt like it was on fire.  
"Would you get me some water?" he finally managed to ask.  
Surprised by her own unthoughtfulness Nics face fell, she jumped up and brought a glass of cold water in seconds. Steadying the glass with her own hand she helped him drink.  
"Small sips" she recommended.

After taking some water Conrad felt a little better, but still very weak. Nic inspected his face, bringing up a hand to cup his cheek and forehead, then wandering back to his wrist for another pulse check. Conrad would have seen her decision the moment she made it, but he had closed his eyes again, leaning his head back against the wood of the kitchen counter.

"Ok, enough, I´m taking you to the hospital." She announced.  
Conrads eyes sprung open. He shook his head, but Nic was prepared for the argument.  
"I don´t need a hospital." He announced weakly, but Nic was already pulling his hoody from the clothes rack at the door, handing it to him and reaching into the wardrobe to get pants.  
"This is not optional. You need a doctor to take a look at you." Nic said decisive and Conrad could hear it in her voice that this time it was serious.

"You justed passed out on me, your heart is hammering, your temperature is through the roof and I´m not going to handle this shitty ego-thing any more. Get dressed, I drive you to a doctor. And you will let Pravesh or whoever is there look over you or there will be hell breaking loose in this very moment."

Conrad had never seen Nic so furious. At that moment, she actually reminded him of his father, and it somehow amused him that she could deliver such a speech. Maybe she was right. He felt like death warmed up, and although it was a horrible idea to be admitted to Chastain as a patient, he would at least know some people there whom he could persuade to be released with some antibiotics tonight, cleaning his bloodstream of whatever bug was bothering him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the late update. Work is crazy right now. But I hope you enjoy the next chapter. One more to come in the little story. :-) **

* * *

Chapter 4.

Conrad had closed his eyes in the passenger seat. He shivered slightly and Nic could see that he kept breathing deliberately through his nose to suppress the nausea.

She had written a text message to Pravesh and announced their arrival, precautionary in case Conrad should think halfway, that he preferred to stop at the nearest pharmacy and simply prescribe his own antibiotic. It would be up to him.

Besides, Nic wanted to avoid a great deal of commotion when they arrived so as not to confuse Conrad any further and expose him to the thousand questions and worried glances of his evening shift colleagues. So she drove to the parking lot next to the ER's entrance and Conrad let her open the door for him and support him with one hand around her waist as they approached the entrance.

"What´s wrong with you?"  
Irving was the first to see them coming through the door. The two newcomers obviously made a worrying impression. Conrads face was pale, cheeks flushed, his breathing heavy. At that moment a worried Devon turned the corner.

"Nic texted me," Devon interrupted, catching up to Irving. "Conrad´s running a nasty fever."

"Nr. 3 is free" Ellen stated from her reception desk with a worried look towards the group. They entered one of the glass-closed treatment-rooms, Nic led Conrad to one of the beds and let him sit down. He still had not said a word and it seemed he had trouble keeping his eyes open. Devon was already at his side, taking his pulse.

"Weak and rapid", he stated pulling out his stethoscope. Nic stepped aside and explained:  
"He was running a high fever all day, around 103. And half an hour ago he passed out on the way to the loo." "Passed out?" echoed Irving, worry clouding his eyes.  
"Was he unconscious?"

"You know I'm here, too?" Conrad interjected, his voice tight and strained. Devon, listening to his lungs, hissed at him.  
"Conrad, I can´t hear anything when you´re talking. Breathe deeply and shut up."  
Conrad closed his eyes in exasperation, but did as he was told.

"For two or three minutes." Nic resumed Irving's question.  
"I was about to call an ambulance."  
Conrad gave her an apologetic look as she stroked his hair.

"Lungs are free," said Devon, who now placed the stethoscope unceremonisly on Conrads chest under his hoody. A hand on his patients shoulder he listened to the heart, his eyes briefly looking into the void. Laying down the stethoscope, he put a hand on Conrad's forehead.

"You´re still burning up, man. Did you take anything for the fever?"

"Some paracetamol, but this is hours ago." Nic answered instead. "We both fell asleep." She explained.  
"I also think he´s dehydrated."

"Ok, we set up an IV. We also need a full bloodcount and an ECG."

Turning to Conrad, he said, "Lie down."

He was about to help Conrad lean back on the bed, but the addressed sat stubbornly, resting his hands on the edge of the bed as if to stop time in an unbearable situation.

All three felt his resistance to moving to such a vulnerable position. Nics eyes were filled with compassion and concern, Irving and Devon exchanged a glance. That look was all they needed to communicate. They all knew Conrad and his stubborness, his concern to show his vulnerable side.

Devon took a step back and started preparing the infusion. Irving took his place and placed a friendly hand on Conrads shoulder. The two knew each other long enough.

"Bro," he spoke in a pleading tone. "You look horrible and I´m pretty sure you feel horrible."  
Conrad looked up at him.  
"Nic is worried about you. We all are worried about you."

Conrad swallowed, his guilty conscience tearing at his heart.

"For once," Irving continued, "let your friends take charge and make sure, you are ok."

Conrad looked up at him, fear and sorrow clear in his eyes. Irving knew: this man has been through a lot, always handling every situation by himself, since beiing a little kid. A man always on the run, always ready to fight, always tense.

Conrad swallowed, then closed his eyes in defeat. A small nod. He clenched his teeth, as he moved to lean back on the lifted bed, visibly forcing himself let go of some of the tension in his aching body.

Nic locked eyes with Irving, mouthing a small "Thank you". Then moving to Conrads head as the two doctors started again with their work, setting up monitoring and IV´s, drawing blood and doing all the things Conrad under normal circumstances would never be able to let them do so quietly.

He only had eyes for Nic. She stood next to his head, stroking his unruly hair. A touch that made him feel save and warm, dispite all the fussing around him. He knew that he was´nt ok, that he needed help and treatment, and that he should not be such an complicated personality. But in this very moment the only thing that mattered was that Nic was with him, that he did not scare her anymore. She deserved a little peace and security. And for that he was willing to let go of control and let somebody else take care of this problem.

"Things are never that simple with you, are they?" he heard Nics quiet voice, as his eyes slipped shut.


	5. Chapter 5

**Last chapter on this little story. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5.

These too familiar smells, these too familiar noises.

It took Conrad a few seconds to realize that he had not just slipped into a quick nap on one of the callroom-cots, but was actually lying in a real bed. Worse: in a sickbed. The shutters where drawn, only dim light from the ajar door lit the too familiar environment, but from this position it looked odd. He had lain in a hospital bed before, but it was always an unpleasant and too vulnerable position for him, he preferred standing in front of the bed taking care of the person in it.

But here he was, soft regular beeping showing that he was hocked up to a heart monitor, a gentle pull on his right wrist explained an IV. Conrad breathed deep and let his head sink into the soft pillow. How did he end up in this condition?

"Hey, you´re awake." A soft voice from his right side let him turn his head.

"Nic," his eyes softened as he lifted them to her. She was wearing her full nurses clothing and was adjusting his IV.  
"Why am I here?" She smiled.

"The medication left you pretty rattled. Devon said it would be best to just let you sleep it off."

"You drugged me?" Nic caressed his disheveled hair with her cool hand, her lips forming a crooked smile.  
"For your own best." she mocked.

"That's illegal," he mumbled, only half surprised.  
He felt better, but still so tired that he could fall asleep again in a minute. He heard Nic snorting through the nose.

"Sleep a little bit more, it's still very early."

Conrad's eyes jumped open again. He had not noticed he had closed them.  
"What time is it?"  
"5:30".  
"In the morning? You did let me sleep all night?"  
He tried to sit up in a weak attempt, it was easy for her to push him down.

"That`s what normal people do at night."

Realization dawned on him.  
"You are on night shift."

She stroked his hair back. How he loved this gesture.  
"Sleep, Conrad. Your fevers better, but you still have to rest."

She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and turned to walk to the door. A look back showed her two brown halflidded eyes, half in frustration, half in sleep, finally giving in to what he realized as an important lesson: you don´t have to manage everything on your own.

* * *

A few hours later Conrad was seated on the edge of his bed, still pale but fully dressed in pants and T-shirt, and obviously not willing to stay in this hospital bed for any minute longer than absolutely necessary. Nic was just putting away the cables of the heart-monitor,  
("All this monitoring was ridiculously unnecessary.") while Conrad started fumbling on the plaster holding the IV-needle in place.

"I´m not going to say it again, Conrad. Leave it alone!" Nic snarled at him.  
"I´m taking the neddle out like Devon said, but you cannot seriously mean to do it by yourself."

Conrads mouth went tight, but he let his hand sink and let his gaze wander towards the window next to the ajar door. His face grew dark.  
"Oh no," Nic followed his gaze. "My dad."

Marshall Winthrop's face appeared in the doorway. He looked very worried as he let his eyes slip over his son.

"I just heard you are here," he adressed Conrad.  
With a soft voice he added: "Are you alright?"

Conrad breathed out. "I´m fine, dad. It´s nothing serious."

Marshall locked eyes with Nic. She answered the unasked question  
"Just a bad case of a flu. He´s going to be ok."

She turned to Conrads wrist and started peeling off the plaster.  
"Hold still".

But as she started pulling the one-inch needle from the sensitive skin around his vene Conrad squinted and turned his head away, a wave of nausea and dizzyness flodding over him.

Suddenly Marshall was at his side, grabbing his shoulder.  
"Son?" he asked.

"Conrad?" another voice joined them.  
"What happened?" Devon.

He felt fingers on his wrist, others pressing a small bandage to the place where the needle had pierced his vene.

"You want to lie down?" Conrad shook his head, not wanting to loose it again, but also to shake of the fog surrounding his vision.  
"I´m ok."

"I didn´t know you where bad with needles." Nic said.  
"Not when they are sticking in other people." Conrad answered dry.

"Marshall, would you give me some space?" Marshall stepped aside as Devon pulled his stethoscope from his neck, unceremoniously lifted Conrads shirt to check his heart. Conrad was still too occupied with breathing and not swaying that he didn´t give a comment on "how unneccessary" this was again.

Only when Devon reached for the blood pressure cuff and slang it around his arm he rolled his eyes.

"80 to 60, this fever really did take a toll on you."

Conrad said nothing. Devon locked eyes with Nic, quietly asking for her opinion. She shook her head slightly and subtly gave a shrug.

"I have your papers here, but you have to promise to stay in bed for at least another day." Devon announced resolutly.  
"The fever is still messing up your circulation, and I don´t want to see you in the ER after some paramedics picked you up from the gutter."

Conrad watched him, his face unreadable. But Devon wasn´t finished yet.  
"Take the antibiotics for five days, and during that time Stay. At. Home."

Conrad watched, then nodded once in defeat.

"I know the drill. But can I please leave now? This place is making me sick."  
He provoked with one eye to his father. They all smiled.

"I get you a wheelchair."

Conrads face fell. "You must be kidding me."

"It´s hospital-policy." Devon announced with a devilish smile.  
"I thought you knew the drill."

_Fin_


End file.
